Saturday, February 28, 2009

Hair


My hair is at war with itself. Tiny white wires are appearing all over my head, pushing aside the soft red hairs and grabbing all the attention for themselves. Right now, the soft reds outnumber the wiry whites, but it’s only a matter of time before the white ones win. And then, my head will be full of white antennae, some curling at their beginnings and stubbornly straightening out at their ends—others bending at sharp angles, refusing to be tamed by mousse, spray, gel, or cream. Each one acts as a neon sign flashing embarrassing announcements like, WOW SHE’S OLD! LOOK AT THE LINES AROUND HER EYES! or YIKES—SUN DAMAGED SKIN!

I’m hoping that the battle will last a while longer. I found my first white hair on my 29th birthday, and promptly plucked it out. As the years progressed, I began to realize that this was not a practical or attractive solution. Luckily, I have enough blonde streaks in my hair to mask the white strands for now, but their rebellious refusal to bend to the will of my brush leaves me realizing that in spite of technological advances in make-up and skin care, there is no stopping the march of time.

The hair on my head is not nearly as perplexing to me as the hair next to my mouth. This year, to celebrate my 40th birthday, my face decided to start growing hair next to the sides of my mouth. Luckily, it is an invisible blonde color, and it is baby-soft, so it’s easily concealed. But why is it here? What brought on its arrival? White hairs in my head, I understand. Stretch marks on my skin after having 3 babies, I understand. But this sudden, startling appearance of mouth fuzz perplexes me. What’s next? Chin hair at age 50? Ear hair at age 60?

I went to the salon this morning, and listened with rapt attention as the stylist praised my hair for its color and thickness. She said the white hair was completely unnoticeable. “It will be a long time before you have to worry about that,” she reassured me. OK, so maybe she was trying for a big tip, but I chose to believe her. I didn’t push my luck and ask her about my facial hair. Maybe the key to enjoying 40 is to see only what I want to see and deny what I don’t. A little bit of self-delusion and denial never hurt anyone, did it? Of course not. How could it?

4 comments:

  1. Too funny! I know the whole hair-in weird-places thing. Mine, though, are of the little pig variety--you know, not by the hair on my . . . yup!

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  2. Hi there :)
    I can relate to your story !! :)
    I am about to turn 43 in a few weeks time, and I'm not dealing with life after 40 too well at all ! whoever said it gets easier as you get older, is lying !!! LOL
    I am getting the grey hairs, not even the hairdresser can't dye it strong enough to keep it away for long.
    I get the chin hairs now, which I am constantly plucking at !! grrr
    I am constantly hormonal and grumpy, I think I might be starting to go through menopause!
    I'm not as motivated as I've always been, in fact I am quite lazy these days LOL
    It seemed not long ago i was in my 20's working and partying hard !
    Oh I could go on ! LOL
    So yeah I sure can relate to your post ! ;-)
    Found you via a discussion thread in BC.
    Take care :)

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  3. Tina and Jules,

    So glad I am not alone! Ha! Nice to meet you Jules. I will check out your blog...

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  4. Hey Sis... I am younger than you and I already had the hair around my lips... what is that about? This is great... I love it and I have showed my students some of your blogs.

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